Draceo and Hermionette
by Zvezdana
Summary: Draco is deatheater, Hermione is Potter-Friend. The party where they meet is masked, they fall in love not knowing who the other is. From Two House-holds unalike, will they break the curse of Romeo and Juliet? or will they follow in its path?
1. Households Unalike

Draceo and Hermionette  
  
A/N: this is a slightly humourous fic, just not enough for us to make that  
the lable. DracoHermione (as if you didn't notice), and it's a spoof on  
Romeo and Juliet. There will be some intimate/serious scenes, but most of  
this is Satire and Tragedy. Although this is a spoof of Romeo and Juliet,  
we are trying to keep Hermione and Draco as in-character as possible, so if  
you notice them falling OOC, feel free to flame. I am writing this with  
The Pointed ToothFairy, and she and I will try to have frequent updates.  
Try.  
  
Prologue:  
  
Two households, unalike in dignity,  
In sweet Londonium where we set our scene,  
From ancient grudge break fi'rce mutiny,  
Where dirty blood makes pure hands unclean.  
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  
A pair of star-crossed lovers lose their life,  
Whose misadventured, piteous overthrows  
Do with their death bury their parents' strife  
The fearful passage of their dark-marked love,  
And the continuance of their parents' rage,  
Which but their children's end, naught could remove,  
Is now the five days' traffic of our screen;  
The which of you with patient souls attend,  
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.  
  
Londonium is the ancient name for London  
A/N: Alright, you may have to read that twice to get all the foreshadowing  
clues, and for you illiterates out there, here's the real prologue to Romeo  
and Juliet, for you to compare:  
  
Two households, both alike in dignity,  
In fair Verona where we lay our scene,  
From ancient grudge break new mutiny,  
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life,  
Whose misadventured, piteous overthrows  
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.  
The fearful passage of their death-marked love,  
And the continuance of their parents' rage,  
Which but their children's end, naught could remove,  
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;  
The which of you with patient ears attend,  
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.  
  
Now, to get to the meat of the story, just hit the "next chapter" arrow,  
and once you finish that, leave a review! 


	2. The Slytherins and the Griffindors

Disclaimer: We own nothing, no characters, no settings, and if you are paying money to read this, someone other than ourselves is cheating you out of money. And not giving us a cut.  
  
Draceo and Hermionette:  
  
The Slytherins and the Griffindors  
  
"I hate Valentine's Day!" Goyle announced abruptly to Crabbe as they sat in Great Hall, mulling over their fifth bowl of porridge and staring disparagingly at the pink tablecloths which Dumbledore has placed on each of the house table.  
  
A bunch of roses, courteous of the house elves, popped up next to him and he began to sneeze violently. He was allergic. Finally, after what was probably the twelfth sneeze, Goyle roared at the innocent flowers and swept them off the table with a crash.  
  
"Hey, did you see this?" a ratty fourth year slid down the seat till he was next to Crabbe. He was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, which, now that they looked around, seemed to be crouched over by students at many of the tables.  
  
"What is it?" asked Goyle, attempting to read the article upside-down, a difficult task for most, but especially for one not very good at reading right-side up.  
  
"The Prophet says...." The boy began n a conspiratory whisper.  
  
!  
  
"...our very reliable sources say there is a great chance that He-Who-Must- Not-Be-Named will strike again tonight in an attack bigger than any which has been seen in centuries...." Hermione read aloud.  
  
"D'you think he's really going to attack?" Ron asked, a little nervously.  
  
"I don't know, not with Dumbledore around...."  
  
!  
  
"...that his forces will be greater than they ever were before..." the weedy boy continued"  
  
!  
  
"The ministry has opened several shelters and advises all wizarding families to stay away from home, there's safety in numbers..." Hermione's voice was growing more and more disbelieving...  
  
!  
  
The fourth year leaned close, his eyes widening for effect, "when asked for comment, Albus Dumbledore, the slightly insane headmaster of Hogwarts said that Hogwarts would not be stopping any of its regulaur activities, and would go through with their Valentine's..."  
  
!  
  
"Day ball as though this information had never come to light," Hermione finished, looking around at the Griffindors who had leaned close to listen to the article, "you see, there's nothing to worry about, the Prophet is just spreading rumours, hoping to get everybody riled up. If something was going to happen, Dumbledore would have told us himself and he certainly wouldn't be going on with the ball." The Griffindors drifted back to their breakfast and talked about what they were giving their sweethearts for Valentine's Day.  
  
"Look over there," Ron jerked his chin at the Slytherin table, "they're all huddling around the papers like hobos at a fire, I guess You-Know-Who didn't tell them about any attack."  
  
"Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters, Ron," Hermione said, looking at him, her light brown eyes chastising. Ron snorted.  
  
"Name one you can tell me definitely is not."  
  
"I..." she glanced at the Slytherin table, scanning for someone who was innocent, "Well, John Ta..."  
  
"No first years," Ron cut her off.  
  
"Well, I'm sure they're not all Death Eaters," she informed him in a snipped voice, "What's wrong Harry?" she asked suddenly.  
  
"Oh, nothing, it's just that some hot-shot divinator has predicted my death," he said listlessly, staring off into space.  
  
"Oh Harry," Hermione's voice was full of sympathy and exacerbated at the same time, "really, divination is hardly a precise magic and you should be used to having your death foretold by now!"  
  
"Thanks Hermione, you're a real friend in need," he growled through clenched teeth. She harrumphed and left the table, probably for the library.  
  
!  
  
Alicia (A/N: as in the Griffindor quidditch player) was surround by a group of friends walking down the hallway, she was only half listening to their chatter about the Prophet's article.  
  
"Do you really think he'll attack?" Marie Suzanne whispered in a frightened voice  
  
"It's best to be prepared," Kyle answered, tightening his grip on his wand, as though expecting You-Know-Who to appear at any moment.  
  
"He's supposed to have a lot more Death Eaters than before..."  
  
"D'you think he'll attack today?" at that Alicia snapped out of her reverie.  
  
"Not on Valentine's Day! I bet You-Know-Who is allergic to Valentine's Day! The Griffindors burst out laughing, Alicia laughing with them. Her cackles stifled quickly, though, when she overheard one Slytherin talking to a few others.  
  
"...father's answer. He said there is an attack." Alicia dropped back from her group and edged toward the Slytherins, trying not to be noticed.  
  
"So, where is it gonna be?" asked a burly fifth year girl.  
  
"He wouldn't say," the boy answered, "something about owls being intercepted." The whole group nodded sagely.  
  
"So, are we supposed to do anything?"  
  
"I hope not, I left my mask at home..." The burly girl looked up quickly, her eyes locked on Alicia and her face darkened. Alicia didn't wait to find out what happened, she sprinted for Great Hall and the security of Griffindor table. Once she reached the doors she reeled back at the lurid sight before her. Pink. This was going to be a bad day for everyone.  
  
!  
  
"Ai, but Parvati is a bit to thin for me, no, it's Lavender's curves that I'd like to push to the wall..." Goyle was saying in a rough, hungry voice.  
  
"You call those curves," Crabbe scoffed horribly, "It's more like fat!" both of them laughed uproariously, making the hall echo with their vulgar words.  
  
Dean and Seamus, walking behind the great lumbering oafs of Slytherin stopped short. Parvati and Lavender were their girlfriends. Not to mention Griffindors.  
  
"Say that again!" Seamus yelled, his voice filling the entrance hall with anger. Crabbe and Goyle stopped simultaneously, Goyle with one foot still in the air.  
  
"I said," Crabbe spat, mustering all the Slytherin malice for Griffindors that had been bred into him, "that she's fat."  
  
"YAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHGGGGGGG!" Seamus called by way of battle cry, whipping out his wand and screaming curse after curse. Crabbe yanked out his wand in response and proved to the whole school that the reason he couldn't master any other spells was that there was no room in his head so filled with hundreds of curses. Dean quickly joined in, throwing a jelly-legs at Crabbe which Crabbe miraculously knew the counter curse for. Than Goyle was hurling spells and soon Neville Longbottom had jumped into the fray, determined to help his friends, he waved his wand, yelling, and a nearby door exploded. Seeing the Slytherins outnumbered, Blaise Zambini took up his wand and started lazy tossing very accurate, very painful curses at the Griffindors until Dean lost his wand. Looking at his hand like he couldn't believe it was empty, Dean jumped onto Crabbe's back and started hurling punches at the Slytherin's head. Ernie Macmillan, hearing what he thought to be the word "Avada..." leapt into the minor battle and raised his wand, too.  
  
"STOP IT! STOP IT!!!" roared the new DADA teacher, rushing in between the warring houses and pushing the enemies apart. They stood, separated, panting and glaring at each other with nothing but a bit of floor between them.  
  
"Three times in this past week your houses have broken the peace of our fair school, three times you have fought in the public corridors and now innocent others are being drawn to fight! If your warring households break the peace of fair Hogwarts once more they will both be banished from her grounds," he paused for a breath, "YOU ARE CREATING TOO MUCH TENSION IN THE SCHOOL" he bellowed, anger and sadness exploding in his tone. "Do you understand"  
  
Members of both houses nodded. "Good." The teacher swept away.  
  
"Be careful," said Blaise, "next time he won't be there to stop us and our curses won't be so weak." The Slytherins pushed past the Griffindors and headed for their dungeons.  
  
A/N: So, did you like? Any problems? Any Betas? Review! And next chapter: Draco, Draco, and more Draco, and maybe a bit of Hermione at the end...hmm...we shall see.  
  
Review! 


	3. Draco's First Broken Heart

'ello!  This chapter is written by Pointed Tooth Fairy, so it's gonna be different from the last one, ok?  And for the simple reason that it fits this chapter, here are some song lyrics.

"…I know you well enough to know you never loved me

Why can't I feel anything from anyone other than you?

and all of this was all your fault… and all of this…

I stay wrecked and jealous for this simple reason

I just need to keep you in mind as something larger than life

She'll destroy us all before she's through

And find a way to blame somebody else"

                           - Cute Without The "E" (Cut From The Team), by Taking Back Sunday

Disclaimer:  yeah.  We own nothing.

Chapter Two:  Draco's First Broken Heart.

"Hey Draco, where have you been?  We cornered a mudblood in the hall the other day just for your amusement, and no one could find you…"

Draco looked up to see the face of Blaise Zabini, looking rather perplexed at Draco's anti-social behavior.  Draco sighed and shook his head.

"Pansy has gone and gotten herself engaged!  She was the only girl I ever considered marrying, and know her father has gotten her betrothed!  My heart cries for her, it aches without an end.  I love her, Blaise, I really do, and now…."  Draco  trailed off.  "she has me reduced to this sniveling lovesick boy, a shadow of my former glory.  Look at me.  I'm a Malfoy!  How could she find someone better than me!" 

Blaise looked at his companion with pity.  "I know exactly what you should do.  You need to confide in the one person who can tell you what to do, the one who knows you best."

"You don't mean…"  Draco started.

"Trust me."  Blaise smugly stated.  "It will help."

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

"And so I must win her love, I simply must!"  Draco finished his rant and looked up at his audience expectantly.

"You senseless little fool"  Snape looked at Draco disinterestedly.  "I have to sit hear for hours listening to your pointless little tale of woe, and you want me to _help_!   Why should I help you?!  You are simply wasting my time.'

Draco looked at his teacher with confusion.  "But…but….but I love her!"

"No, you don't.  You are a foolish to think that what you feel is love.   You are simply drawn to her wealth, her power; you are drawn to the idea that all that she owns could be yours.  You are in love with wealth, and your heart is led by your greed.   What you feel is not love, so stop calling it that.  Call it infatuation, call it lust, call it greed, but DO NOT CALL IT LOVE!   Now listed to me when I say GET.  OVER.  IT!"  Snape slumped in his chair, obviously exhausted by his mini-speech.

"You've never been on a date in your life, have you Professer?"  Draco asked with a mean glint in his eyes.

"Get out of my sight, Malfoy.   You ingratitude sickens me."

Draco wandered out of his Professors classroom, only slightly cheered by his dig at Snapes love life.

 ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

The first thing Draco saw when he entered the Slytherin common room was Pansy Parkinson, surrounded by a gaggle of her friends, giggling about something.  Well, he didn't care what it was about.  He was too proud to care.

"You want to know what there looking at don't you"  Blaise appeared at Draco's side. 

"Damn right I do."

"Trust me."  Blaise told him.  "You're better off not knowing."

  Of course, that only inflamed Draco's curiosity.  He sauntered over to the gaggle of girls as inconspicuously as possible, and pretented to be absorbed by the flamy-ness of the common room fire.

"…my god, look at the size of that ring!"  One of the girls gasped.  "He must really be in love with you!"   Draco flinched as he realized what they were talking about.

"Or, he could be over compensating for the smallness of something else…" Another girl slyly commented.

Pansy just shrugged of their comments with a smile.  "It was the most expensive ring my fiancé could find, he's incredibly rich and powerful, and he absolutely adores me."  She laughed softly.  "He will do anything I say, he's so adorable."

To Draco, these words were like poison to his heart. 

"And what's more,"  Pansy continued, oblivious to Draco's pain, "My father went threw _mountains_ of paper work just so I could get engaged on Valentine's Day.  It must be the effect that I have on men."  It was clear that Pansy loved the attention the girls in the common room and the two men in her life gave to her.  She was basking in the affection and adoration.  The girls were still giggling while Draco was walking over to Blaise. 

"How could she do this to me?   I feel like I will never be free from this heartbreak and anguish…"

"You will Draco, all you need is to take your mind of Pansy.  Torturing a few mudbloods at the ball ought to cheer you up."  Blaise grinned at put his hand on his friends shoulder.

Draco nodded absently, not believing a word Blaise said.  He would always love Pansy.  He would never be free of his need for her.

A/N  I'm done!  So, what do ya think!   I really don't think it's that bad, but I don't know what you guys will think.  Do you have any suggestions!   It wasn't as long as Zvezdana's, but I have issues with writing long chapters with out dragging stuff out.


	4. Our Most Noble Ranks

_Draceo and Hermionette:_

**Most Noble Ranks**

"Draco! I've come to cheer you up!" the meticulous Lucius Malfoy said from the depths of the owlery, which Darco had wondered over to after a first year informed him his father was waiting.

"What makes you think I'm not cheerful?" Draco asked in his glummest of glum voices.

"Well, son, news travels fast in the Pureblood kingdom, as you know, and that horrible bint Pansy and her bastard of a fiance's engagement is no exception."

"Her fiance's a bastard?!?!?" Draco looked up, hopeful.

"Figuratively speaking, son, figuratively." Draco's eyes cast down again.

"But! My good piece of news! You are to be initiated into the ranks of the Dark Lord's servants today before the ball! Come, we must go to the ceremony quickly!"

"But..." Draco's voice trailed of softly and the momentary look of doubt vanished from his eyes.

Cloaks............hoods.................masks.

Bland dress and black clothes. They stood in a circle around him, silent, unassuming, unmoving.

In the middle... the Lord. Quiet, thin, majestic, his eyes ruby and the pupils slits, his face paler than Draco's own.

"Come, young Malfoy." The voice was soft, commanding, and strong, Draco was drawn to the Lord by more than his own will.

"Hold your palms flat before me and give me the Champions Of a Purer Tomorrow's promise." For of course deatheaters were not really deatheaters, that was just the name the stupid mudblood tabloids had given them. Draco looked up into the Lord's eyes.

"I vow to follow the every command of the Dark Lord in my search for a better, purer tomorrow, and a time when muggles will not know and scorn us, when we will be superior to all other humans. I vow to exterminate any who opposes the struggle against muggle encroachment upon our culture and to uphold the morals and values of the good and the pure, to be a champion for Wizard's Rights. I will never turn from this path."

The Dark Lord nodded and his sage, wise eyes were convinced, his cold, long fingers lightly touched Draco's left arm and he felt a shiver run through his body. It didn't hurt, it was nothing but a mere, cold touch and the conveyance of the Dark Mark, which, his father promised him, could burn like Hades' hell.

Suddenly the Dark Lord was holding a beautiful silver dagger in his hand. It was thinly and strongly wrought, probably by the ancient dwarves which muggles had so long ago destroyed. Smooth obsidian adorned its hilt and around the handle was wound black leather with a thin silver snake curling almost to the top.

"This is your gift of initiation" the Lord murmered, "you will participate tonight in the attack on Hogwarts, and you will finally become a complete member of our most noble ranks."

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A/N: So, what do you think? And is the "noble cause" of the Death Eaters plausible enough? And er..._thanks_ Nelly, but our grammer problems are the faults of typos and the lack of Betas, so, yet again, Anyone want to Beta? Email me at 

And, in case you didn't know: we do not own anything


	5. Two StarCrossed Lovers

_Draceo and Hermionette:_

**Two Star Crossed Lovers**

In the darkness of her high-towered room in the ancient castle, Sybil Trewlany was making tea.

The red scarves which usually adorned the lamps to dim lighting had been removed, as there were no students there to put a show on for. After all, they were all crowded into great hall for that horrible Valentine Ball which Dumbledore had insisted upon, and Sybil could not go down there because it would cloud her "inner eye".

Oh yes, she knew her inner eye was fake, she couldn't imagine why Dumbledore kept her. Sybil supposed she had kept her job the same way she passed divination while she was at school: she created a load of tragic nonsense and people seemed to believe it. It was a technique she'd borrowed from her grandmother, Cassandra.

Although...she was becoming a little jealous of that horse-type. Ferdinand? Was that his name? The cup of tea she was brewing was being brewed for just that reason: to mull over the horribleness of that uppity-centaur.

Once the tea was in her cup, she sat back to drink it, than made a face in disgust. She stood back up and wandered over to her cupboards, grabbing something out of them, she went back to her table and was just pouring a liberal shot into the tea when her head jerked up and her eyes went glassy.

Than she said in a harsh voice (her mother had always told her singing was _not_ her calling):

**_Though Dark Lord's reign draws to an end, yet the terror it embodied does not..._**

a slight noise of flapping...fabric cracking in the wind as cloaked men flew by on broomsticks?

**_Forever the foes of blood will not solve their feuds, they will always lash out and a new Lord will rise to take over again. The leaders of strife shall come from the Houses of Salazar and Godric, and they shall destroy both friend and foe in their efforts, and the hate risen between blood and house will never be vanished...Unless..._**

sounds of doors being flung open and sudden, absolute silence

**_Two star-crossed lovers would meet tonight, tonight before the moon is risen full..._**

in the distance, shouts and explosions could be heard

_**and through the air with shouts and might, born durnst a fight....**_

the screams rose in pitch and volume

_**two enemies will learn of love and bring an end to hate. But! What of the stars which curse lovers' fate and bring them to the tomb, so with death of well-loved loves shall the hate be withdrawn. **_

By now the whiskey, which had been poised over her tea was three-quarters gone

_**Though the Dark Lord's reign draw to an end....**_

Sybil jerked out of her trance, shivering. Looking around for what could be the source of her terrible feeling she heard anguished cries in the distance. Knowing such cries were not possible, not in Hogwarts, she took a long gulp of tea.

When she awoke the next day, she almost wanted to call the feeling drunken imaginings, but what her colleagues told her made it seem real, far, far too real....

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A/N: sorry about that, two dark chapters in a row, and another to come (although that one will have some fluff) R&R, you're lucky the Tooth Fairy and I haven't quit on you yet, all of you being so mean to us. And we are still looking for a beta (especially the Tooth Fairy) TF shoves Zvezdana off a cyber roof


	6. The Mask of Glittering Death

The Mask of Glittering Death 

"So…Hermione. Have you given any thought to whom you're going to the ball with? It's tonight you know…" Ginny looked up at her friend hopefully.

"No Ginny, I have not given any thought whatsoever towards that ball. I have far too much to do to worry about something as adolescent as a ball. I mean honestly! Can you really see me dancing at a masked ball?" Hermione sighed and looked up at the younger girl. She was sure she'd had this conversation with her at least a dozen times before.

"But that's the point, Hermione!" Ginny rolled her eyes in pretend exasperation. "At the ball you can pretend to be someone your not, and no-one will know that your Hermione Granger, smartest girl at Hogwarts and book-worm extraordinaire! Don't you just want to loose yourself for just a little while? Plus, "Ginny's eyes sparkled with impending slyness, "you might just meet someone there who is looking for an intelligent, single girl who needs to let loose." Ginny stared at Hermione with pleading eyes. She smiled inwardly when Hermione sighed in defeat.

"If I say I'll go, will you get off my back about getting a boyfriend?" At this, Ginny squealed with excitement.

"Oh, Hermione, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret this, I promise. I'm going to make you look so beautiful." Hermione groaned and allowed herself to be dragged up to the girls dorm room, wondering what she had gotten herself into. She had no idea that her fate would be decided that night.

That night, the Great Hall was alive with Hogwarts students, all fourth year and above, and all of them eager to spark a relationship, or make a current one that much more special.

Well, all but one irritated Gryfindor and a few hesitantly excited Slytherins.

Draco looked around the Great Hall-turned-ball-room with apparent distaste. To all around him he was the picture of cool nerves and elegance. He was proud of himself for not letting his nerves get to him, like Blaise so obviously done. The idiot boy was standing by the punch bowl drinking cup after cup of punch, even though no trace of alcohol had ever been anywhere near the thing.

One look at Pansy and her simpering friends however, almost brought Draco's pride crashing down.

Almost.

Draco sighed and looked around impatiently. He just wanted to get tonight over with. He adjusted his mask and silently thanked the gods that no one could recognize him. That way no one could prove that he was involved in these attacks, and his acceptance into the Death Eaters would be complete.

But the attack would not take place for another hour or two. So, in a fit of insanity, Draco decided to follow his Potion Master's advice, and went off to dance with the first girl he saw. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a girl standing near the door looking bored, and decided to go over and make her night just a little more interesting. If only for the sake of proving to everyone that he couldn't care less about that stupid, wonderful, precious little bint, Pansy Parkinson. As he approached the girl, he wondered who she might be. Her mask covered most of her face, but he had a clear view of her long brown hair and slender build. And she held her self with such poise and dignity that he assumed that she was a Slytherin that he had just never noticed before.

Hermione was on the verge of leaving when she heard a cool, self-assured, and slightly familiar voice whisper into her ear. Startled, she spun around, and saw a masked stranger standing at her side, seemingly appearing out of thin air. His mask covered his face and hair completely, but she was drawn to him instantly, for he seemed so calm and reposed. Without saying a word, she allowed herself to be taken into the strangers arms. As soon as she felt his embrace, she felt something change inside of her. Some deep, hidden emotion, undisturbed until now, came to life. Her logical mind tried to abandon this feeling, who could she possibly love someone who she didn't know? How could love be sparked from a simple touch? But, as they danced on, she began to realize that she was indeed in love with this man, as ridiculous as it seemed. And she had a sinking feeling that when the song ended she would not be able to let go.

Draco, usually so determined and confident, had no idea what was happening to him. He had simply taken the girl into his arms, and then…what? What was this longing he felt that took a hold of him just as he had taken a hold of the girl? This longing accompanied by a contented kind of peace, the knowledge that he was where he wanted to be, and that he would never let this girl, his true love, leave his side. He tightened his embrace and felt his love press closer to him. He looked down at her and opened his mouth, for he needed to know this girls name.

However, he was rudely cut of by the screams of the surrounding students. Realizing with a start that the attack had begun, Draco snatched his wand from his pocket and looked wildly around for his fellow Slytherins. He knew he was to participate in the attack, and root out all the Mud-bloods and Muggle lovers, but now that the fight had actually began, he was surrounded by confusion and terror; he was utterly lost. A thought flashed through his mind that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to attack at a masked ball, when he couldn't actually recognize any of the people he was supposed to attack. Spells were ricocheting of the walls, many missing their targets. The once peaceful room was filled with screamed curses and cries of fear. Hogwarts, once a safe haven to escape from war, had become a battlescene.

A scream from behind him brought him back to his senses. He spun around, and with horror he saw his love cowering in the corner, cowering under a large attacker, her wand tossed aside. He lurched forward with a cry and grabbed the young Death-Eaters arm.

"No! You mustn't! She's one of ours, leave her be." The child Death-Eater backed off, looking warily at Draco.

Once Draco was sure the danger was gone, he focused back to the girl, who was looking at him with a mixture of confusion and fear.

"You… you….you're…" She muttered incoherently, pointing at his head. With a start he noticed that in his frenetic state he had let his mask slip, revealing a lock of white-blond hair. Draco did not know why his hair was so significant to the girl, so he turned around to try and play his part of the attack, only to realize that the attackers were retreating. Towards the center of the crowd stood the Dark Lord himself, calling his adult followers to him.

"Our work here is through. Maybe now you will realize the serious of my campaign, and show me due respect and fear. Let us leave." And with that, Voldemort and his minions disappeared, leaving the survivors to deal with the carnage. After such a short battle, it was hard to believe the number of people lying on the ground wounded. From the far end of the Great Hall, Draco heard Ron Weasley screaming.

"Dad? Dad! DAD! Wake up! Stop lying there, get up, damn it, DAD! Dad, please, don't go…you can't go…Dad…."

Draco vaguely remembered overhearing Weasley telling Potter that his Dad was going to be chaperoning the dance, for safeties sake. As Ron was being dragged away from the body of his lifeless father, Draco turned his attention back to the girl whose life he had just saved. She was watching the scene with Ron as if she was in a state of confusion; like she really should be over there with him, but she did not want to leave the situation. Finally, with an air of resolution, she stepped towards Draco, removing her mask in the process.

Draco's mind flew out of his skull at the sight of Hermione Granger standing in front of him, mask clutched limply in her hand.

"No one else in Hogwarts has hair like yours, or has such an air of confidence around them." She smiled sadly, and looked at him with a mixture of sadness, determination, and love, and muttered, "Am I still one of yours, now that you know who I am?" before looking away, as if she were afraid of the answer.

Draco bowed his head and quietly slipped his mask of, trying to find the right words to answer such a simple, yet devastating question. After raising his head and looking into her eyes, Draco knew how he would answer Hermione.

"If you had asked me that same question a night ago, I would have laughed in your face. But now, now that I have held you in my arms, I know the truth. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. I have never seen anyone more beautiful that you. It matters not who your parents are. I love you, Hermione Granger." She was so beautiful. If he could make a girl like that his bride…

Hermione was staring at Draco with adoration in her eyes.

"I love you too, Draco. And I am sure that your intent is pure."

"Hermione? I wish to marry you. Life would not be worth living without you by my side." Draco knew the enormous impact his words would have but his mind was filled with nothing but his sudden and irrational love for Hermione; there was no room for him to contemplate anything else.

Hermione was having a civil war in her mind. While she felt that they were taking things too fast, and that this could have deadly consequences, she wanted nothing more than to agree to marry Draco, even if it was to be doomed. This marriage could unite the houses forever, and her yearning for peace amongst houses along with her blinding love for Draco determined Hermione's decision.

"Yes Draco. I will be your bride."

She took Draco's hand in hers, and they left the scene of destruction behind.

A/N: Hallo, so this is it! Terribly sorry it took so long to update, but I've been running low on inspiration. If Zvezdana hadn't been gently prodding me to get this chapter written, I'm not sure when I would have gotten it done. Although I am VERY upset at her insult to my grammatical skills. There, is, absolutely nothing. WrOnG with my; grammer? I, just cant: believe, she, would, say something, like that. Well, I'd like to point out that the reason they are moving so fast is because this is kind of a foolish love, and also the original Romeo and Juliet takes place over the course of like, four days. And I'd like to thank my English teacher for the civil war in the mind comment. And the rose by any other name comment is, of course, Shakespeare. That's all I have to say, except REVIEW! And now that I've got your attention, we really do need a Beta!

Buh bye --- Pointed Tooth Fairy


	7. Deadly Skirmish

_Draceo and Hermionette_

Deadly Skirmish

"Hagrid!" Draco ran to the looming giant who was righting tables and other large objects which had been up-ended during the fight.

"Hagrid, can you do something for me?" Hagrid looked down at the blond boy, surprised, all he knew of the younger Malfoy was that he was a coward in the Dark Forest, told on him about Norbert, and almost got Buckbeak killed.

"Wha' d'ya want?" he asked, trying to sound as friendly as possible, but his voice came out in a growl.

"I want you to give something to Hermione for me," Hagrid was immediately on his guard, why would the prince of purebloods want to give something to the smart, muggle-born Hermione?

"I want you to give her…" Malfoy frantically searched his pockets, "this!" he held up a ring. It was large and made of solid, heavy metal. Set with highly polished black onyx and bearing a large, elaborately etched "M", it could be nothing but the Malfoy signet ring. "And I want you to tell her, that if she really wants to marry me, she should meet me two dungeons down from Professor Snape's classroom, its on the left. She should be there an hour after curfew."

Hagrid's shiny black eyes shown extra-shiny for a moment, almost as though there were tears in them, "Anythin' for my Hermione." He said, offering a slight smile under his wild beard. Draco glanced around quickly, he couldn't be seen with the half-blood oaf.

"Thanks," he said, and sauntered off.

* * *

"What the bloody hell did you do!?!" a screaming, tear-torn voice ripped across the courtyard. It could belong to only one person.

"Weasley?" Draco turned to see Ron dashing towards him from the inner halls of the castle.

"You killed him!" a crowd had begun to gather. Draco quickly ran through all the people he had hurt recently, but he couldn't remember killing one, or even touching anyone Weasely would be worried about.

"What?" he asked, very softly, confused.

"Yesterday, during the battle, you killed him! You killed Nevil!" What? Draco hadn't killed anyone yesterday, he hadn't had the chance, and he certainly didn't kill Longbottom, that would have been plain wrong, seeing as his parents were crazy and all. Then it clicked. Lucius.

"That wasn't me, Weasley. I didn't kill anybody."

"No!" Ron bellowed, his voice filling all the echoing spaces of the courtyard, "but your father did, and you're all bloody Malfoys, you would have killed him if you had the chance!"

"Weasely…"

"No! Stand and fight, a real duel!" Ron had his wand out, pointing it tremblingly in Draco's direction, "Fight a wizard's duel, when you don't have any chance to curse somebody from behind!" A year ago, Draco would have sneered away the idea, a month ago, he would have taken that offer, a week ago, he would have made the challenge himself, but not today. Today, with Hermione, he felt his heart weighed down and knew such a thing impossible.

"Weasely, if only you knew the reason I have to love you."

Ron's face paled. Was Draco coming on to him? No, impossible, Draco was a playboy who dressed like a model and probably played the harp in his spare time….oh, God.

Ron raised his wand again, "Fight!"

"I will not fight you, Weasely." In the crowd, disappointed Gryffindors and Slytherins murmered among themselves.

"Vile, dishonorable, coward!" Blaise Zambini cried from the front of the mob which had circled around the two, bringing a slight silence to those who had heard. He walked forward quickly, grabbing Draco by the shoulder and whispered in his ear,

"What are you doing? No proper wizard turns down a duel!"

"Blaise," Draco whispered back, his face full of resigned sorrow, "sometimes you just have to let these things go."

"Let them go!" Blaise screech-whispered, "you are a _pureblood_ you have been challenged by another _pureblood_ to a duel over the death of a _third_ pureblood. You can't back down from that! It's treason to your blood and all of ours!"

"I will not fight him! I have no quarrel with Weasely!"

"If you do not fight him, I will." Blaise whirled to face Ron, his wand out and ready to battle. Draco began walking away. They wouldn't fight. Blaise knew better than to draw so much attention to himself.

A bright violet flash on the wall before him made him turn around. Blaise and Ron were surrounding themselves with coloured smokes and flashes of light as they battle to what appeared to be the end. Draco ran towards them.

"Stop! Stop!" he stood between the two, trying desperately to separate them, pushing at both their faces so each was turned toward the sky or the floor, unable to see where to aim their next curse. A boom and a green light ended it all.

Blaise crumpled to the ground, motionless. Ron stared at him, a look of abject horror in his blue eyes, his wand still partially raised. "Ron?" an unidentifiable voice whispered out of the crowd. Dropping his wand, he turned an ran. Draco stood motionless, his eyes locked in Blaise's ever-staring expression of shock. It was him. He had done it. He, Draco, had stood in the way of his best friend, and his friend had not seen the curse coming, he hadn't known to put up a shield. It was all his fault. Tears began to roll down his pale cheeks.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Draco dashed off to find Ron.

* * *

Coming upon a fountain, the one built by Rowena Ravenclaw to symbolize life and peace in Hogwarts, Draco felt around in his pockets. It was there, it had to be there. He hadn't gone anywhere without it since he was eight and his mother had given it to him. Of course, it had to be refilled every once and a while, but essentially he hadn't been without it for years. He stopped just before entering the open hall which housed the fountain.

Ron was there, leaning and panting over the side of the fountain, his shuddering breaths mingled with the perpetually falling water. He couldn't see Draco since his back was turned.

Walking with a silence that would have impressed Snape, Draco grasped the smooth object he had drawn from his pocket and glided forward. Ron turned suddenly, having seen Draco's form in the rippling water.

"Malfoy, I didn't mean…." A look of purer hatred than Ron had ever seen passed over the blond boy's eyes.

"Weasly, you cast the Killing Curse, you can't do that by accident," Draco's voice was low and as cuddly as dry ice.

"I know, but," Ron stumbled over his words, "I didn't think it would hit him, I just…"

That look passed over Draco's face again, seeming to freeze his heart. Raising the smooth object high over his head, Ron Weasly had time to glimpse the sickly dark purple liquid in the glass bottle before it hit him.

The glass shattered, shards of it flying down Ron's skin and tearing his clothes, some even hitting Draco, but it was the liquid that did the worst damage. It was as if he could not comprehend the pan for a moment, because Ron simply stood there, and than he began to scream. He ran at Draco, hands outstretched as though catching hold of his life-long enemy would throw the pain onto him. Draco stepped back quickly, his hard eyes watching the scene, knowing he would come to no harm. Ron's face had split apart, sizzling and crackling as what little was left of blackened flesh dropped to the ground. The visable, ragged edge of where the drops had fallen spread out and down, hair eaten away, scalp completely gone, the red-smeered white of the skull sounding off noises like fireworks set off under a mountain of snow. Finally, the bone seemed to almost cave in as the no-longer visible potion ate its ways toward Ron's brain, his screams growing steadily louder. As a hole opened into his mind, the screams stopped, the body, no longer recognizable, swayed and than collapsed. A portion of fluid drizzled out of the skull, but the acidic potion continued to burn its way through Ron's lifeless body, soon allowing blood to ooze out of a new hole in the boy's neck.

A/N: Sorry about the long wait for an update, reviewers will be addressed in the next chapter, and please review again!


	8. A Mincing of Words

A/N errrr….hi. This is Pointed Tooth Fairy. First of all, I'd like to say that it is NOT ZVEZDANA'S FAULT that this chapter is so late. It is completely my responsibility. However, I'd just like to make it clear that I do have a life outside fanfiction, and while that doesn't make up for the lateness of this chapter, it at least explains it. I've had a hell of a lot going on, and I'm really sorry that I couldn't find time to write, but I'm finding time now. Also, this chapter is going to be a little, ok, very different from the last one, mainly because no-one dies, it's focused on Hermione, and also because I have a different writing style from Zvezdana. I'm not that good at writing depressing/gory stuff. And, like I said before, I have serious issues with writing long chapters. Anyway, HERE IT IS!

A Mincing of Words 

Hermione, of course, had no knowledge of the deaths that had just occurred, so she had no reason to be afraid while she wandered towards the Gryffindor common room. She was completely unfocused, something that rarely happened to her. It was like her mind had just wandered away, leaving her completely free. It was a strange feeling to not have an overload of thoughts rushing around her brain. It was also quite unnerving that something like this had happened to someone like her. Still, it was quite understandable considering the events that took place at the ball.

Suddenly, she was jerked out of her trance when she collided with a large, soft wall, that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. She looked up, startled, and discovered that it was not a wall that she had collided with; it was Hagrid.

"Oh…Hagrid…I'm sorry, I didn't see you." She mumbled as an apology.

"Ah, that's okay, I can' understand yer mind bein' somewhere else a' the moment." Hagrid chuckled and winked. Hermione frowned absentmindedly.

"What? I'm not sure I understand you, and I really can't stay and talk." Her response simply made Hagrid laugh even more heartily, and a sly smile appeared on his face. Hermione was bemused. Since when was Hagrid sly?

"Oh, then I suppose I'ls jus' go, then. No matter, yer probably wouldn't 'a cared what Mister Malfoy had to say, anyway." Hagrid turned around to leave, but was stopped when Hermione reached out and grabbed his arm.

"What! You've talked to Draco? What did he say? Does he still want to-" She was going to continue, but she was cut of by Hagrid.

"No! We can't talk 'ere. To many people could 'ear us. Come back to my heart, an' I'll tell yer everything" Not saying anything more, Hagrid quickly started walking toward the grounds, with a joyous Hermione running to catch up.

Hermione sighed and checked her watch. She had been sitting in Hagrid's hut for what seemed like hours, and he still hadn't told her anything. He had gone on a bit about his Care of Magical Creatures class, and about how it was perfect weather for Snorluck mating (whatever _that _was), but he had told Hermione absolutely nothing about Draco.

Hagrid turned away from the stove with two mugs of tea in his hands and set one down in front of Hermione. He sat down across from her and took a gulp of tea before staring of into the difference. Hermione decided that this was getting ridiculous, and cleared her throat.

"So, Hagrid, what did Draco say to you" Her impatience was replaced with excitement and love as soon as Draco's name came out of her mouth. Her heart seemed to beat faster at the mere thought of him. However, she was disheartened by the faraway look that appeared in Hagrid's eyes. After all, Hagrid did have the ability to wander miles off topic.

"Ah, yeah, Mister Malfoy. I must say Hermione, he is a right handsome lad. For a while there I thought that you and Ron would… you know. But now that I think about it you and Draco seem so perfect for one another. I know that some people may think differently, but what do they know, eh?" Hermione saw this question as a chance to interpolate.

"Yeah, Hagrid…"

"I know that you two seem so diff'rent, but really, yer just so alike! See, on the outside yer polar opposites, but on the inside yer jus' a match made in heaven. It's so romantic…" Hagrid's eyes grew watery, and Hermione prayed that he wouldn't start crying.

"It's really sweet that you think that way Hagrid." Hermione said in a soothing voice. Inwardly she was screaming. Hagrid didn't notice her annoyance and just kept on rambling.

"Take Flobberworms and Blast-Ended Skrewts, for instance! While they look so diff'ren' on th' ou'side, an' they 'ave a comple'ly diff'ren' way o' life, they can' still fin' true 'appiness and love wi' each other. They can still life forever in complete bliss an' 'armony." And with that he broke into great gasping sobs. He put is head on his arm and pounded the table with his free hand.

"Oh no, Hagrid, please don't cry!" Hermione wailed desperately. She was never going to hear about Draco if Hagrid kept going on like this. "Please… don't be sad." This, apparently, was the wrong thing to say, as it only made Hagrid cry even harder.

"I'm not _sad_, Hermione! I'm jus' so 'appy tha' you've finally foun' love! Jus' thinking back to when yer wer in yer firs' year, so innocent and young, an' now…an' now yer goin' to get married!" Hermione stepped back, delighted. So Draco still wanted to marry her! Finally, Hagrid had told her what she so desperately had wanted to hear.

"Hagrid?" She asked tentatively. "So…does Draco still intend to go through with our plans?" Hagrid looked up and stared at her as if she had asked him is birds could fly.

"Well, why wouldn't he, yer grea' stinkin' idiot? Wha' do yer think I've been tryin' to tell yer! Have yer even been listenin' to a word I've said?" Hagrid gave Hermione a disapproving look, but even that couldn't bring her down.

"Oh, thank you Hagrid! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are a wonderful, beautiful man!" She kissed him sloppily on the cheek and started to leave. Hagrid was so stunned that he almost let her go, before he remembered what he was supposed to do.

"'ang on a minute, Hermione. Blimey, if I let yer leave withou' givin' it to yer, 'ee would kill me, for sure!" He moved over to his coat and began rummaging through the pockets. Hermione stood at the half open door, hopping from foot to foot. She was about the say something when Hagrid let out a cry of triumph.

"AH HA! 'ere it is!" He pulled out a small object, and strode over to Hermione. "Best o' luck, Hermione. Draco wants yer to meet 'im tonight one 'our after curfew, two rooms down from Professor Snape's classromm." He whispered and pressed the object into her hand. "Stay safe." Hermione smiled gratefully and ran out of the door towards the school with Hagrid looking after her with wistful eyes.

As soon as Hermione entered the common room, she could tell that something was wrong. The room was noisy and crowded like always, but this sound wasn't one that she was used to. It was not the happy commotion she was used to, it was frantic and hysterical. The entire Gryffindor house was clustered in a messy circle at the center of the room, and she couldn't see what was going on. Panicking, she rushed to the middle of the crowd. When people saw her coming they made a path for her, staring at her with pity. This added to her panic, especially when she saw Ginny curled up on the floor, wailing. She could barely make out what Ginny was saying. She caught the phrases, "Murderer," "Oh, God, he's dead," and "I hope they kill him!" Hermione crouched down next to Ginny and tried to comfort her.

"Ginny, what happened, whose dead?" She asked, trying to mask the fear in her voice. She needed to be strong, she couldn't break down now, not when Ginny needed her. However, her question was only met by more sobs and gasps. "Ginny, tell me, who died?" Hermione tried again. Ginny looked up saw Hermione crouched in front of her. The sight of her friend made her cry even harder.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione, I wasn't there, I didn't see it. Oh God, I'm so sorry, I know you loved him, even though you tried to hide it, I knew it and now he's dead!" Hermione pulled back, shocked and petrified. Ginny couldn't know, could she? She couldn't possibly be talking about… Something deeper and sharper than fear froze her blood and took hold of her heart. "Ginny," she said, more severely this time, gripping her friend by the shoulders, "Ginny, tell me, _who is dead_?" Ginny looked at her with a mixture of pity and grief. "Ron!" was all she could mange to say before collapsing back into her hysterical state.

Hermione let her hands slip away. Ron… it wasn't Draco that was dead, it was Ron! One of her best friends in the entire world was dead, and all she could feel was relief. However, she still wasn't satisfied. She grabbed hold of Ginny once more and whispered, "how?" A vengeful, malevolent look appeared on Ginny's face, and she screamed "Malfoy, that foul, inhuman bastard!" The cold feeling returned to Hermione. She forced her self to ask which one of them did it, even though she already knew but wouldn't let herself believe it. Ginny looked at her with confusion and growing mistrust.

"It was Draco. Draco did it. Why does it even matter? Why does anything even matter anymore?" Once again, Ginny was taken over by her grief, and started to cry silently into her hands. Hermione slowly stood up and avoided the looks of pity from those around her, and mindlessly staggered to her dormitory. Relieved that no one else had followed her up, she fell on the first bed she could find.

"No." She whispered. "No, it can't be." Draco had killed one of her best friends. Draco, the man she was so in love with, was a murderer. Why, why could she not feel heartbroken? Rons death had not really sunken in, it was like it had happened to another Ron Weasley, one that she hadn't known since first year. She felt sorrow and loss that Ron was dead, of course, and she could not imagine life without him around. But why was she not gripped with the utter darkness and overwhelming grief that people were supposed to feel when they lost someone close? And why did it not seem to matter that she was going to marry the man that had killed Ron? Why didn't she hate Draco for what he had done? She felt horrible, disgusting, and sick. She chocked out silent sobs, sobs of mixed grief and confusion. She tried to clench her fists together, but stopped when she felt something hard in her left hand. She opened her hand, and stared at the slightly heavy object that lay inside. It was the gift from Draco that Hagrid had given her. It had been pushed to the back of her mind by elation and then grief. She brought it closer to her face and realized that it was a ring. Draco had given her a ring. It was a typical Malfoy ring, large and dominating, and not something that Hermione would normally wear. But that ring represented hope and love, and an escape from the confusion and loss that seemed to be surrounding her. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she pressed the ring close to her chest before slipping it on her finger. The weight made her hand feel heavier than usual, and she relished that feeling. It was almost as if Draco were sitting next to her right now, holding her hand and comforting her. She glanced over at her alarm clock and saw that it was almost curfew, and she was supposed to meet Draco. Filled with a familiar and comforting sense of purpose, Hermione stood up and began to get ready. She realized that she would always love Draco. Yes, he had killed Ron. And while Hermione would bear the weight of Ron's death for the rest of her life, she loved Draco still. She knew in her heart that Draco was not a cold-blooded killer. And she would not let anything stop her from being with Draco forever. Hermione smiled slightly and wiped away her tears. She temporarily pushed Ron's death from her mind. She would not let anything, no matter how tragic, distract her from what would certainly be the most memorable, important, and joyous night of her life.

A/N: eh, I'm not that happy with this chapter. There are a couple of unanswered questions that I don't like. Oh, well. I can trust Zvezdana to yell at me and make me revise this if it's absolutely terrible. It would help a lot if you REVIEW! But I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. AND it's the longest chapter I've ever written for fanfiction!


	9. TheTroubles of Night Crawling

Draceo and Hermionette

The Troubles of Night Crawling 

Half an hour after curfew, Griffindor common room was still packed. Packed with people comforting Ginny, restraining Harry, and comforting poor, poor, Hermione.

Lavender Brown glanced anxiously between the clock face and her distraught sort-of friend, Hermione. "You look really tired," she said. And it was true, Hermione's eyes were drawn and wrinkles showed on her forehead. For the past fifteen minutes, she had been sitting bolt upright in her chair, looking at no one, staring blankly at the clock face. Lavender's voice brought her back for a moment.

"You're right," Hermione said softly. She stood, "I think everyone ought to go to bed," her powerful prefect voice commanded, "We've all had a long day. It would be best to get some rest." Surprisingly, the populous of the common room began to drift toward bed.

Lavender waited at Hermione's side for what seemed forever, until they were the last two in the common room, in fact. After waiting a moment too long to seem natural, Hermione finally edged toward the left staircase, Lavender close behind. Upon entering their shared dormitory, Hermione threw her spaghetti strap nightshirt on (not bothering to remove her bra or jeans) and collapsed dramatically into bed, pulling the curtains close. She waited ten minutes, listening to Lavender rustle and bustle; she even heard the swish of a makeup brush, but dismissed that as unlikely. Another five minutes. The silence of the room was broken only by the delicate breathing of sleeping girls.

Leaping out of bed, she hurried as quietly as possible out the door, down the stairs, and past the Fat Lady.

It was not difficult for Draco to leave his common room. No one hung out in Slytherine Common room. They weren't gregarious people. Not only was there no one in the common room, there was hardly anyone in the dungeon. After all, there was a party going on in Hogsmeade, a revel being held in Scotland, a funeral for somebody's Grandfather (which meant about ten people in the house were inheriting), and an enormous shipment of illegal goods coming into Swansea any time now. He was excused from all of these activities on account of his killing the Gryffindor. Nobody wanted to be seen with him and become guilty by association.

He didn't want to leave too early, as it wouldn't do to be wandering the halls if the door was locked. He didn't want to leave too late because, contrary to popular belief, Slytherin dungeons were on the opposite side of the school from Snape's classroom. Draco paced.

We'll name the first boy Bartholemue, Hermione decided. And the first girl Felicity. Hearing the sound of labored breathing, she stopped. Dear Lord, no one had found her…?

Draco burst from the common room, his shoes in his hand and his feet familiarly treading on shadows. Let's see, he thought. We'll live in the Veronian cottage, Father won't bother us there. Speaking of which…if I'm Draco, and he's Lucius, and Grandfather was Marcus, then the first boy will have to be Gustavus. I wonder if Hermione will mind _not_ naming the girls after words. Or at least not English words, and especially not flowers.

"You look sexy in that tutu," came a heaving, breathless female voice, pitched low and tantalizing.

"I picked the pink because I knew it's your favourite colour," replied a male in husky tones. A giggle, Lavender Brown's giggle, answered him.

So that's why she wanted everyone to leave! Hermione realized, and couldn't resist turning the corner to have a peak. What she saw made her jaw drop open. She quickly retracted her head and pawed at her eyes to scrape away the image of Seamus doing whatever that was to Lavender. Hermione scurried in the opposite direction, fighting equal urges to laugh and gag.

Draco tapped his fingers upon opposite arms. Who would have thought ghosts have such active sex lives? This was the third time he had been forced to hide behind a curtain while they did their thing. Moaning Myrtle was moaning in a way not suited for girls her age, though the Bloody Baron was doing a good job of keeping the grunts to a minimum. Draco wondered if this counted as child molestation even though Myrtle would be quite old enough to handle herself had she been alive. He would have tried reportingit to the Ministry of Magic if he hadn't been technically on the run. (Like they didn't know where he was, anyway. Bored and worried about the time, Draco strolled from his hiding place, giving a playboy's salute to the Barron and walking on as though nothing had happened.

Three doors away from Snape's room, he saw Hermione approaching. Draco stopped to wait for her. 

"You won't believe what I have to tell you!" She whispered in his ear.

A/N: I would like to make it very clear that it is ALL MY FAULT that this chapter has taken so long. First I had an enormous test, then finals, then I ran out of excuses and I still didn't update. The only reason it is here is because the Pointed Tooth Fairy would lynch me if it wasn't.

I would also like to address the couple readers who have commented "it's going too fast.":

YOU ILLITERATE FOOLS! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF THE STORY OF ROMEO AND JULIET? IT TAKES FIVE DAYS FOR THEM TO MEET, MARRY, AND DIE. So expect the same basic timeframe here.

Please review! (And of course feel free to flame me back)


	10. If Only I Wasn't A Snape

IfA/N: ok, so I admit it. Killing Ron with acid was my idea originally. I thought it would be cool. And, ok, maybe it was a little gruesome. But, as Zvezdana said in the last chapter, this is based on Romeo and Juliet. And in Romeo and Juliet, Juliet's cousin dies. Now, seeing as we don't know Hermiones cousins, we chose her closest friend. We decided that Ron was the person she cared most about (we have other plans for Harry), therefore: RON HAD TO DIE. If you want to take up the argument with Shakespeare, go ahead. However, he's kinda dead. So my advice is to just deal with it.

Chapter 8

If Only I Wasn't A Snape

Severus Snape sighed moodily as he scowled at the door across from his desk. He briefly considered pacing around his room again, before deciding instead to leaf through a few papers on his desk. He glanced at his watch and felt a pain in his temple when he realized that Draco would be arriving at his classroom soon, and he would be bringing…_Granger_.

He was actually starting to feel quite sick. While he realized that it was his duty to the blood in his veins to marry them, he had a sickening feeling that this marriage would end in the downfall of his favourite student and, though he loathed to admit it, the smartest witch that had ever stepped foot into his classroom.

"Bloody ancestors" he growled under his breath. "They just _had _to become ordained priests of the church of Luthgarric. Why couldn't they just-" He abruptly stopped his rant and tensed up when he thought he heard something approach the room. Seeing the door stay blessedly closed, he returned to his restless fidgeting. Which was a terribly bad idea, as he was taken completely by surprise when as giggling Hermione burst through the door, followed by an equally hysterical Draco. Snapes scowl deepened. Never, in his entire life, would he have though he could ever see Draco Malfoy _giggle_. It was a sight he wouldn't care to ever see again. Impatient with their childish ways, he loudly cleared his throat. Ugh. Stupid teenagers in love. How disgusting. And yet, it was possibly the only thing that could finally unite the Wizarding World.

How Snape _hated_ irony.

He turned to the two misty-eyed fools in front of him, mentally preparing himself for the unwelcome task ahead of him. However, it was Hermione who was the first to speak.

"Professor , I just want to tell you how thankful I am-"

"Save it," Snape snapped, causing Hermione to look rather put out. She couldn't stand teachers berating her. "I am not doing this 'out of the kindness of my heart', nor do I derive any form of pleasure in causing you to happiness. Which, by the way will only be fleeting. However, I believe that this union will be beneficial to our entire community. I don't think you realize the amount of power you two hold. You're breaking all boundries, knocking down barriers, and creating a tie between two completely different worlds! You—"

"OKAY!" Draco cried, his normally cool demeanor obliterated. "We get, we're saviors. Now, please just hurry up." Snape turned to him and fixed him with the iciest glare he could manage. Draco didn't flinch, but he would later swear that he felt the temperature drop a few degrees.

"This is not a matter to be taken lightly!" Snape continued, ignoring Draco's uncharacteristic outburst. "I have to know that you're serious about this. You're moving at a ridiculously fast pace, and once I perform the ceremony there's no going back. This is forever."

Draco and Hermione shared a 'save me the ranting' look, before tuning back to Snape with obviously faked serious looks on their faces. Their straight-faced looks did little to hide the obvious exhilaration lingering in their eyes. Snape shuddered for what seemed like the millionth time that night.

'Young love' he thought 'how disgusting.' But, no matter how disgusting he found the subject, there was simply no way he could put off the ceremony any longer. He groped around under his desk, until he found a large, exceedingly dusty book. He threw it down on the desk with such forceful anger that Hermione started, and Draco instinctively reached out for her. Snape cleared his throat and started flicking through the tome, searching for the section on Wizarding marriages. Upon finding the vows, he began to speak in a controlled, even tone.

"Now, if we are all finished with all this teenage idiocy, we may be able to continue with the ceremony. First I'll need to know who you have chosen as your witnesses. They'll be arriving soon, I presume. Granger, I do hope you haven't chosen the Potter brat. Heaven knows I don't need anything more to make me physically sick." At that, he expected to receive a defensive remark from the witch, but all he heard was a stunned silence. When he looked at the two lovers, he saw twin expressions of confusion and dismay.

"Wha-witnesses? What witnesses? No one ever said anything about witnesses!" Draco cried, looking utterly lost. Hermione shook her head, though the action was unnecessary, as Snape had covered his eyes with his hands and was rocking back and forth. He stayed like that for a few minutes, until Draco tentatively stepped forward, and was about to inquire about his favourite professors health, when Snapes head snapped up, his eyes tightly shut.

"If you foolish young children had _any _common sense, you would realize that all marriages require witnesses. Now, seeing as there are obviously no witnesses present…" While saying this he looked up and glared around each corner of the room as if he were daring a witness to pop up and announce their presence. When none had, he continued. "We shall obviously have to put this ceremony off until tomorrow night, by which point you two had better get your act together. Do I make my self clear?" The two teens nodded fearfully. "Then get out of my sight. NOW!" Needing no further instruction, Hermione and Draco fled from the room, slamming the door behind them.

Frustrated that he would have to go through one more day of anxiety, yet relieved that the two were gone, Severus Snape sank into his chair, and massaged his temples. Realizing that there was only one possible cure for his problem. Reaching under the desk for the second time that night, he felt under a pile of dirty socks to find his potion.

He lifted the bottle to the light, where the words "Dillyworths Tequila" where barely noticeable under layers of dust and grime. It was obvious that he had been saving this drink for dire circumstances. Snape unscrewed the cap with slight difficulty and raised the bottle to his lips, with a silent prayer to the gods of alcohol that he would remember none of the nights events in the following morning.

A/N: so,.yeah. I'm gonna be sent to the second layer of hell for updating so incredibly late. And for having such a short chapter. Sorry, Zvezy. At least it's here now, right? And please, please, please REVIEW! It would make me very happy.


	11. Wizarding Decree Number ThirtyTwo, Sect

_Draceo and Hermionette_

Wizarding Decree Number Thirty-Two, Section One, Paragraph One

Draco bid Hermione farewell outside the potions classroom. He had gone but a few feet when he raced back to her, grabbed her shoulders to spin her around, and kissed her very gently on the lips. She gasped, looked up into his eyes, and breathily whispered a name:

"Filch."

Draco released her shoulders and looked down at her very fluffy head. "What?"

"Filch," she said again, and ran away, towards Griffindor tower. Then it dawned on Draco. They had left Snape's room because they heard someone coming, and Hermione thought it was Filch, the caretaker.

He spun on his heel and bolted down the hallway, further toward the dungeons.

"And what are you doing?" Demanded a wheezing voice.

"Detention!" Draco decided, " I was writing lines for Professor Snape, now I'm going to bed." He fled before Filch could say anything more, praying fervently that he would not confront the Potions Master.

* * *

The next morning, Draco blinked sleep from his eyes to see the handsome, very close face of Blaise Zambini looming over him.

"Arrgggh!" He flung his friend across the room, groped for his wand, and wound up brandishing a quill. "What are you doing!"

Blaise's laughter was joined by the slow gafaws of Crabbe and Goyle. Draco growled, realized that was a rather muggle-ish thing to do, and stopped. "Where were you last night, bud?" Blaise joked.

Draco clawed his way from under the covers and began to dress. "Knocking up a muggle whore, what about you?"

When his face emerged from the billows of robes, Blaise looked serious.

"You're not serious, man? You _know_ their gonna want the Purity Charm performed at your wedding."

Draco gave Blaise a very demeaning look, chucked the quill he was still holding at him, and stormed from the dungeon apartments. He had just joined the Slytherins trickling toward the Great Hall and breakfast when he noticed a bit of agitation ahead. Those ahead of him were coagulating, either to watch the happenings or to slow them out of spite. Behind him, others were pushing forward, trying to see through the clot of spectators.

Over the heads of his fellow students, Draco saw the tall forms of Professors Dumbledore and Snape accompanied by the slightly shorter Professor McGonagal. All three were addressing what appeared to be a floating lime-green bowler hat in very loud tones.

The green bowler hat elbowed its way through the crowd of discreetly hissing Slytherins. As it neared Draco, he realized it was actually perched on the head of the portly Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"You don't understand…."

"The Ministry doesn't have the right…."

"You can't prove anything, anyway….."

McGonagal, Snape, and Dumbledore were all arguing, explaining, and distracting Fudge. Draco could have sworn he saw Dumbledore make a little shooing motion, as if instructing him to flee.

"Really, he's just a child…"

"Minerva, I've had enough!" Fudge declared, glaring up at the more powerful woman. "He is not a child! The boy turned 17 in December, and besides which, a crime of this gravity…" Then he caught sight of Draco.

Cornelius Fudge puffed himself up importantly, placed a pair of spectacles upon his nose, cleared his throat, fluttered a piece of paper, and, after all this preparation, read:

"Mr. Draconis Alexis Malfoy, you are under arrest for the violation of Wizarding Decree number thirty two, section one, paragraph one, which clearly states: Should any Wizard willfully and determinedly kill another, they are sentenced to life in the prison of Azkaban, where after twenty years of stay in mentioned prison, they will be administered the 'Dementor's Kiss' as specified in section three, paragraph seven. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can and will be used in a trial of the Wizengamotyou have the right to defend yourself in court. You have the right to tell the truth, should you lie or attempt to lie, Vertisarium will be administered…"

* * *

A/N:

for reasons of my own (the ToothFairy will probably kill me), I have mentioned the Purity Charm. I have robbed this from somebody's fic, but I'm not sure whose. Anyway, the Purity Charm is performed to make sure _both_ bride and groom of a marriage are virgins the day they are wed. This charm is often used at Pureblood weddings. This means, yes everybody, Draco, as of now, is a virgin.

His middle name is Alex-y, think French. (The Malfoys, after all, are French, you don't think they got _that_ surname in England, do ya?)

The ToothFairy will update as soon as I pester her into doing so.

Review! Zvezdana

Sorry it was so short, the climax is nearing!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Pointed Tooth Fairy here, very sorry about the lateness, but I've had a heck of a lot of work to do in the past few months…I really don't know what else to say, except sorry.

Chapter12 God Bless The Devil 

"…Vertisarium will be administered…"

Fudge, however, never had the chance to finish his severe-sounding reading, for at that moment he found that a rather powerful silencing spell had been placed upon him, hampering his attempt to appear intimidating. A look of outrage and confusion flitted across his face, and he spun around rapidly, only to find himself staring down the sharp end of a wand held by…. Professor _Dumbledore_?

Indeed, the ancient wizard was brandishing his wand straight at the Minister of Magic, with a look on his face that was both defeated and furious. When he spoke, his voice was low and menacing, with no hind of grandfatherly sparkle.

"I'm afraid, Cornelius, that you have vastly overstepped your bounds in prosecuting a minor, especially one that attends _my _school." And with that, both he and Severus Snape promptly stunned the astonished ministry officials, in the process creating a rather foul smelling purple haze that caused all unwanted spectators to flee. Dumbledore turned to Draco, and was briefly concerned that he was losing his aim, and had stunned the boy, too.

However, it seemed that Draco was merely shell-shocked, and came to his senses after a gentle tap on his head from Dumbledore's wand.

"Ow!" Draco rubbed what he was sure was about to become an unsightly bump on the crown of his head. "What was that for?" He asked the headmaster in an accusatory tone.

"What was what?" Came the reply. "Now, listen to me carefully. The Ministry if Magic will be arriving after they start to wander what's taking so long for their prisoner to be retrieved-" Draco realized with a start that it was he that Dumbledore was talking about, that he had actually become an outlaw, and the seriousness of his situation finally began to dawn on him-"and so you will need to hide, and hide fast. There is a place in Hogwarts that few have heard of, I believe you came across it last year on a little quest for an ex-professor here…"

As Draco was making his way to the Room of Requirement, Albus Dumbledore turned towards the leader of the Wizarding world.

"Time to wake up, old friend." He murmered---**NOTE TO BETA**: do you know the name of a reawakening charm?----.

"Wha…wha's 'appening?" Cornelius Fudge groaned as he sat up, looking around blearily. "Where's the murderer? And why's everyone asleep? Dumbledore, what the Devil is going on here?" He turned towards the amused wizard.

"Well, Cornelius, it appears that you underestimated your own prisoner. He must have stunned us all, and then run off. However, he did not manage to knock me out, as I have an exceptionally hard head. If you would kindly awaken these nice men, I will show you the way he ran. I did not wish to follow him at the time; for fear that it wasn't…following regulations, as you might say. You understand of course." A glare was all he received in answer, and a grumbling Minister of Magic turned towards his officials and began rapidly shooting out reviving spells. Not before kicking a few of them to vent frustration, of course. After all men were fully awake and aware, Dumbledore addressed them with a devious glint in his eyes.

"Now, if you would all follow me, I believe I know where Mr. Malfoy has headed. Seeing that he isn't the brightest of boys, it is only logical that he will have headed straight towards the comfort and familiarity of the Slytherin common room-" at this point a few aurors snorted at the thought of the Slytherin common rooms being comforting, causing Fudge to shoot them a "don't mess with me glare-"and so it would be prudent for you all to just follow me. Form a straight line, and don't mess around, and I'm sure you will have your prisoner by the end of the hour. This way, please."

Now, you can call him crazy, but Cornelius Fudge was certain that, as he was leading them down a very gloomy and dim lit staircase, Albus Dumbledore was skipping on every other step.

Draco Malfoy was bored. And scared. And hungry. And tired. And lonely. And just about every other unpleasant thing that it was possible for a teenager in love (not to mention serious trouble) to feel. As he paced the room for the 156th (or was it 57th?) time, he was relieved to here a knock from the other side of the room. Completely disregarding common sense, and ecstatic that someone had come to keep him company, he raced over towards the door, and flung it open to reveal a gaping Malfoy. Wasting no time, she pushed past him into the shadowy room, shaking her head in irritation.

"Honestly, Draco, where is your common sense? For all you know, I could have been the Minister of Magic, here to stun you and bring you straight to Azkaban!"

"Well, yeah, I suppose." Draco retorted. "But, obviously, you're not. So it's ok, then."

"No, it is bloody well not 'ok!'" Hermione sobbed. "I was so worried about you when Professor Snape told me what was going on, I practically sprinted over here! You are a stupid, thoughtless, irresponsible boy, and I am hopelessly in love with you!" And with that, she threw herself into Draco's arms.

Draco, naturally, had absolutely no idea what was going on. In fact, he couldn't think of much else other than 'I'm holding Hermione.' He did his best to comfort her, seeing as he didn't even know why she was crying, and before long her lips were covering his and he was pressed up against a very conveniently placed bed that seemed to spring up out of nowhere. Not that he was complaining, or anything. Gaining confidence, he parted his lips, causing Hermione to follow suit. He flicked his tongue softly into her mouth, causing a deep moan that traveled straight to…uh-oh.

"Hermione…" he panted. "Herm- oh, god, Hermione." He reluctantly broke of the kiss, gazing at her with half-open eyes. She stared back at him with an almost hungry look in her eyes, something that he had never seen before, and that, quite frankly, scared him to death.

"Yes, love?" She purred. Draco stammered for a moment, before regaining his train of thought.

"Do you want…? I mean are you sure…" He gulped, seeing her nod slightly, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"It's just that I, well, I've never, exactly…." He trailed off, unsure of how to finish. Hermione placated him with a soft kiss.

"Shh, love. I haven't either. Don't worry, I trust you. I love you, Draco." Draco felt like his heart would burst straight though his shirt.

"Oh, god, Hermione, I love you so much." He reached down and picked up her small frame in his arms, kissing her wildly, before laying her down on the bed. Hermione smiled up at him, one hand tangled in his hair, the other reaching slowly up his shirt, encouraging him further. Draco carefully placed himself on top of her, hands touching, caressing everyplace he could reach; his breath coming in short, rapid bursts. He briefly raised himself up on his arms, to look down at the girl, no, the woman lying beneath him, and saw her looking at him as if he was the only person alive in the world. And he knew, he just knew, that no matter what happened he would always have this one moment, and this one night. And the only thing that mattered was his love for Hermione, everyone else be dammed. And he would find away out of this awful mess, run away with Hermione, and for once in his life, he could actually feel alive.

And, for a few hours at least, that was what he believed. Then the whole world fell apart.

He was startled awake by either the birds or the curse. He heard the birds first. Hermione was nestled against him, her tangled brown hair tickling his arms. Her eyes fluttered open when she felt him move.

"Listen, Hermione," he said, extatic at the ridiculous perfection of it, "They're nightingales! They're singing for us!"

Hermione Granger-Malfoy sat bolt upright. "Those aren't nightingales! They're morning doves! Oh my God! Oh my Lord! We've gotta get out of here!" She leapt off the bed, dragging a sheet with her as though concerned with her modesty, than she froze.

The portal to the Room of Requirement shuddered as if someone had beaten it with a fist. A muffled cry of "Curse the devil!" drifted through the heavy wood. Hermione giggled, nervous and jittery and all sorts of things a good-girl should feel on a morning like this.

"God bless the devil," she whispered, kissing Draco chastely on the forehead before picking her clothes off the floor and dressing.

Outside, no more curses or any other indication of Cornelius Agustus Fudge were made.

A/N: wooo….I updated. I rock. Look for the next chapter from Zvezdana, which should be up sometime in the next month or two. If you hadn't already guessed, we don't exactly have weekly updates. And Ronfan, if you're out there, CONTACT ZVEZDANA! I e-mailed you the chapter for beta-ing, but I don't know if it arrived, or what. We need to hear from you.


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